


Unspoken

by brumalbreeze



Category: Naruto
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-07-22
Updated: 2010-07-22
Packaged: 2017-11-07 00:51:12
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,703
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/425125
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/brumalbreeze/pseuds/brumalbreeze
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The first thing Sasuke wanted to do when Naruto showed up on his doorstep was to slam the door. Too bad he didn't quite have the energy to do it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Unspoken

**Author's Note:**

> Old work copied over from ff.net. Man, this stuff is ancient. Beta-read by Nadramon from ff.net.

_Bzzzrt. Bzzzrt. Bzzzrt_.

Sasuke eyed his phone warily, wondering who in the world could be calling him this early in the morning, and what they wanted with him. It was still vibrating on his night-table as he lay there, trying to decide whether or not he should answer it. He was not in the best of moods to carry on a conversation with someone at the moment (though it was arguable that he _never_ was in the best of moods to carry a conversation with someone).

Halfway through his slower-than-usual thought process, the phone stopped. He believed that would be the end of it and was about to roll over to his other side when the stupid thing started up again.

 _Bzzzrt. Bzzzrt. Bzzzrt_.

Frustrated, he snatched it off the table and snapped it open, speaking bitingly into the innocent cell phone.

“What?” His singular word was emphasized with an unpleasant growl. The quality of the borderline threat was dampened by the strange nasality of his voice.

“ _Good morning to you too, Sasuke! Hey, what would you say if I told you I was standing_ right _at your door at this minute?_ ” a cheery voice crackled a mile a minute over the line. He _knew_ that voice.

At the proffered question, Sasuke sat up and swung his legs over the side of his bed. He almost immediately regretted the fast action, but he plowed through the flickering dots in his eyes. Quickly, he began stalking through his house with a growing vengeance.

“ _Hey, what? Are you still there, Sasuke? Hello? Helloooo? Why aren’t you answering?_ ”

A few steps later, and the dark-haired individual found himself staring at his heavy wooden door. “I would call you,” he said tersely into the phone while yanking the chain from the door, “an utter,” the top lock on his door snapped open, “and complete,” Sasuke muttered as he grabbed the handle and threw the door open, more viciously than was required.

A gush of hot air rushed into the house as the door swung soundlessly on its hinges. Sasuke’s glare intensified, and he violently shut his phone. “Idiot.” The last word of his sentence ended with a sigh as he looked at the person in front of him.

Naruto was standing on his doorstep with a million-watt grin on his face, a couple of bags resting near his feet, and his backpack slung on his shoulders. He shuffled his phone into his pocket when he saw Sasuke putting his away. “Hey, Sasuke.”

Out of habit, the Uchiha raised a hand to the bridge of his nose and pinched it, closing his eyes and hoping that the intensifying migraine he was experiencing would somehow go away. “Naruto… what are you doing here?”

“I heard you were sick.” Naruto leaned down and grabbed the plastic bags before standing up again. “You going to invite me into your house any time soon?” he asked, peering behind the Uchiha’s shoulder. It was hot outside, even in the early morning, and he longed to be relaxing in the air conditioned house.

Sasuke had half the mind to slam the door shut and pretend nothing happened, but Naruto didn’t wait. He invited himself into the house by pushing past him. Slowly, Sasuke blinked his eyes. On any other occasion, he would have shoved the blonde right back out, but today, he had no energy to argue or fight. He had a feeling that, if he _did_ try as valiant an action as throwing Naruto out of his house, he would collapse before finishing his task. Besides that, the blonde was nearly impossible to get rid of once he made up his mind, kind of like a recurring infection.

“Have you eaten breakfast yet? No? That’s not good, y’know. Gotta keep yourself full of food and stuff so you can get better quicker. Oh yeah—do you want to drink something? I heard you have to drink a lot when you’re sick. Here.” Naruto was bustling around the kitchen as if he owned it, and he practically did too. He had been over so many times that he knew Sasuke’s house as well as he knew his own. As he spoke, he sorted his bags’ contents into the right cabinets and correct compartments in the refrigerator. He had already fished out a mug and filled it with water by the time he reached the last bit of his spiel.

The Uchiha had no choice but to dazedly grip the cup in his hands when Naruto pushed it to him. His head still hurt, and he wasn’t feeling very solid on his feet. Seeking a sturdier position, Sasuke sat down at the dinner table, still charily watching his friend go back and forth between the sink and the fridge. Light-headedly, he glanced over at the microwave to check out what time it was.

“Hold on, I think I put breakfast over here or something—huh?” he stopped when Sasuke suddenly spoke up.

“You live two hours away,” Sasuke said slowly with a phlegm-obstructed voice. A fleeting grimace passed his face, and he shuddered slightly. Discreetly, he tried to clear his throat.

Naruto looked distractedly at him and grinned effortlessly. “Yeah?”

“It’s eight o’clock on a Saturday morning.”

With a laugh, Naruto turned away. “What’s your point?”

Sasuke fell silent, and his companion began to chatter away. He brought the mug to his lips and drank deeply. His friend’s innocent question almost made him doubt whether he had a point at all.

The plastic bags Naruto brought over were rustling as he rummaged through them, seemingly pulling things out at random. “Ah, here it is. Okay.” He squinted at one of the plastic boxes, scratched his cheek, and shrugged. “Looks like this is breakfast....” Naruto looked at the container suspiciously again, as if he couldn’t quite make up his mind.

A muted sound was created when Sasuke placed his now-empty mug on the table. “You didn’t make that, did you?”

Throughout the years, Naruto had taken up many different odd jobs, thereby picking up rather random, but helpful, skills, such as cleaning, fixing cars, repairing pipes, replacing doors, mixing airbrush paint to _just_ the right consistency, and creating relatively functional websites. However, even with his peculiar mix of abilities, one of the things he never learned to do was _cook_. Eating Naruto’s cooking was akin to asking for food poisoning, which was why the blonde frequently went to his friends’ houses for meals. (He paid them back by utilizing his other skills and fixing things for them in return.)

The blonde laughed once more. “Oh, no. Sakura did. Don’t worry about it. I asked her to make some food for you yesterday. I have the next few days’ worth of food all packed up and ready to go!” He flexed his arm reassuringly at Sasuke. His only response was Sasuke brushing his bangs out of his eyes. “Hm?” Blue eyes settled on his mug. “Done?” He whisked the cup away and rinsed it quickly.

“How did you find out I was sick anyway?” His gaze followed Naruto as he shoved the food container into the microwave to heat.

“I called Sakura the other day. She said you sounded kind of nasally the last time she checked in on you.” A loud beep interrupted his explanation, and Naruto popped the microwave door open. “I figured the only reason you’d sound nasally is if you just cried, or if you were sick.” He turned his head a bit to grin at Sasuke. “You don’t cry.”

Swiftly, he grabbed the box, nudged the door close, and toed a cabinet open. The blonde peered into the dark depths before fishing something out. “Pancakes!” he announced cheerily, holding up a bottle of maple syrup.

The Uchiha sat sullenly at the table, turning his thoughts over as Naruto gingerly placed down two plates and forks onto the table. He glared at the blonde’s hands as he eased three pancakes onto each plate before sitting down across from him. The maple syrup edged itself over to him, urged by the blunt end of Naruto’s fork.

“You weren’t even sure if I was sick or not? Sakura might have heard incorrectly. You could have just come here for nothing,” Sasuke said with a slight bitter edge. His eyes had redirected themselves to his friend’s face.

Naruto’s hands went up into the air, his right hand still grasping a fork, and his shoulders shrugged to create the perfect picture of an, “I don’t know,” action. “Well, if you weren’t sick, then you must’ve been crying. If you were crying, the end of the world was sure to be here, and you probably needed someone to comfort you anyway. If Sakura had heard incorrectly, then this would have been the perfect opportunity to visit you anyway. I haven’t come down for a while.  And, of course, if you _were_ sick—which you are, by the way—then my plan works out! Are you going to use the syrup now, or not?” He ended his explanation dismissively, eying the bottle between them enviously.

Sasuke huffed. “Take it.”

Immediately, the poor maple syrup was snatched off the table. Naruto drowned his pancakes in it before replacing it. He dug in enthusiastically, but Sasuke was slower on the uptake.

“Isn’t that kinda dry without syrup? You want some juice? I think I saw some apple juice in the fridge. I brought some orange juice over too, if you’d like,” Naruto mumbled around a mouthful of food. He swallowed hastily and half-stood from his chair.

“I’m fine. Just… sit.” Sasuke poked at his pancakes with significantly less enthusiasm. He sneezed into his shoulder and scowled.

Hesitantly, Naruto sat down. He looked uneasily at his friend and muttered a “Bless you,” to him. His smile picked up slightly. "Alright." Again, he began to attack his breakfast with gusto.  
  
Sasuke sat in morose silence, only occasionally picking up a piece of the pancakes to his mouth. They were sweet enough for him—maybe _too_ sweet—even without the syrup. He didn't mind the dryness of the spongy cakes.  
  
The blonde was done with about three quarters of the meal, while Sasuke was still picking at his nearly full plate. Once or twice, he muffled a short, dry cough into his shoulder. "You should go home. You might get sick from me," he said suddenly. Naruto looked up from his plate, fork half-lifted to his mouth. His head tilted to the side as he replaced the silver utensil.  
  
"No, I won't," he replied in a matter-of-fact tone. "I don't get sick. When have you ever remembered me getting sick before, huh?"  
  
Their eyes met in a one-sided glaring contest. Naruto merely smiled back at his friend’s sour expression. The conversation paused for a long while, and neither of them moved until Sasuke resigned and said, "Fine. Do what you want." His word was final, and Naruto went back to eating.  
  
"You know, you really should eat, Sasuke...." Worried eyes glanced at the Uchiha's plate. He nibbled the edge of his fork while he said it, having been finished a while ago.  
  
"Don't feel like it," he stubbornly replied. His eyebrows were furrowed from irritation and his headache, and his mouth was drawn down in his default displeased expression. Sasuke refused to look up from his now-soggy pancakes.  
  
Suddenly, there was a loud scraping noise as Naruto pushed his chair back to stand up. Sasuke didn't look up until a thumb started to rub at the crease between his eyes. Shock made his brows relax, and he opened his mouth in half-hearted indignation when Naruto's palm came to rub gently across his forehead. The tips of his fingers brushed at his hairline as Naruto frowned.  
  
"Stop that too. You're just messing up your headache." The hand withdrew and Naruto plopped back down in his chair with a disgruntled expression. Before Sasuke even had a chance to ask how Naruto knew he had a migraine, he was explaining already. "Your forehead was creased, and your neck was stiff. You always make that face when you have a headache… which is ninety percent of your waking time."  
  
Softly, Sasuke closed his mouth and looked at his plate. "I'm done," he said obdurately.  
  
With a sigh, Naruto picked up his plate and stacked it on top of his empty one. "We'll try again at lunch," he said, tone light and breezy again. His eyes still held a hint of dark frustration as he went to the sink, but the corners of his mouth had relaxed. "Do you want to go back upstairs to rest? I'll be up in a second. Just gotta clean up some stuff...."  
  
His only reply was a faint grunt from Sasuke. Standing up took a bit more effort than he would have liked, and his head swam a bit with his vision. Carefully, Sasuke gripped the edge of the table until he was sure he could walk steadily. He was about to head back to his room when Naruto stopped him.  
  
"Hey, wait. Drink this," he said, pushing some orange juice into Sasuke's hands. "You still need to hydrate yourself and get lots of vitamin C." They looked at each other for a second before Naruto's gaze fell away solemnly. "Sakura told me, you know, when I asked her to make you some food? She said you had to hydrate yourself, and that vitamin C helped the healing process." He scratched his cheek nervously and turned back to the sink without another word. Quietly, Sasuke took a sip before walking out of the kitchen.  
  
Once in the safe confines of his room, Sasuke closed the door, placed the cup on his night-table, and yanked two tissues from the box next to it. There were two more boxes on the table, though they were empty, and the wastebasket by his bed was overflowing with tissues. He would have cleaned it out earlier, but the effort it took to get around his house and his uncharacteristic lethargy had prevented him from it.  
  
Almost in a paranoid manner, Sasuke glanced at the closed door of his room. Once he was certain no one was nearby, he started to cough violently. It was a minute or two until he was done, and his throat was cleared. He tossed the soiled tissues away before getting another to blow his nose. The pounding in his head intensified, but at least he could breathe properly.  
  
The bed dipped down heavily as the Uchiha sat. He grabbed the cup he had left earlier and drank a bit more. Being sick made his appetite dwindle, and even drinking was a chore. His body just didn't want it, though he knew better than not to drink and eat.

His fingers ran uneasily through his hair. A rough cough escaped through his nose and caught him off guard, consequently causing an odd noise to come from his throat. Hastily, Sasuke grabbed another tissue to cover his cough until the tickling in his throat retreated. He cleared his throat before lying carefully back into bed. The blanket was pushed to one side of his bed, shoved there when he got up that morning. He didn’t bother pulling it over his body. Even though it was cool in the house, it felt odd to put on a blanket in the middle of summer.

A horrible rasping noise whistled from his chest as he sucked in air with some effort. His lungs were definitely filled with phlegm. Some harsh coughs sounded through the room as Sasuke turned over to his side, feeling sweat begin to bead over his forehead and coat his back.

Downstairs, he had been able to repress the coughs, but it was a great effort on his part, and strained him more than he needed. Having Naruto hang around would probably make his condition worsen. His body was already being battered; he didn’t need his pride to be too.

Half-delirious with fatigue and illness, Sasuke drifted in and out of restless sleep. He woke up from his light sleep when Naruto opened the door discreetly and peered in the room. When the blonde saw that his stricken friend was blearily awake, he grinned and allowed the door to open further. He adjusted one of the straps of his backpack.

“Hey. I’m going to cop out here so I can keep an eye on you. You can go back to sleep.” Gingerly, he closed the door again and went to Sasuke’s computer desk to put down his pack. Then, he went over to the window and drew the curtains back a bit so that there would be light. It wasn’t bright enough to disturb Sasuke from sleeping.

Sasuke rolled onto his back and dragged a hand to his forehead, feeling how hot and damp it was. The room was silent, save for the soft, unhealthy wheezing from him, and the careful movements from Naruto.

“Why are you here, Naruto?” the question floated brokenly across the room.

The muscles in Naruto’s neck stiffened a bit, surprised at the sudden inquiry. He relaxed immediately afterwards and straightened out. “I’m here to give you the special Uzumaki-Namikaze Cold Treatment, of course!” he announced proudly. “It’s guaranteed to cure you by Sunday night, if not by morning.”

Sasuke didn’t need to have his eyes open to know Naruto was grinning obnoxiously again. He scoffed. Naruto’s chipper response wasn’t what he was looking for, but, then again, he wasn’t sure what he was expecting in the first place. “How would you even know if it worked or not? You said you didn’t get sick downstairs.”

At those words, Naruto’s brilliant grin faded into a gentle smile. “I don’t,” he reconfirmed, “but Dad did. He always got a bunch of small colds and stuff because he was so stressed from work. Mom constantly had to take care of him. Even though Dad was always sick, it never lasted for more than two days, since Mom was so good treating it.” Absentmindedly, he began to rub at the hair near his temple thoughtfully. “I bet that’s how you got sick, huh? Stress from school?”

The lump on the bed shifted, but didn’t reply.

Naruto’s gaze lingered on Sasuke’s supine figure a while more before he went over to the desk again, finally pleased with how the curtains were. He began to take things out of his backpack and set them on the solid, wooden table. He listened to the labored breathing that dragged nails across the blackboard of air as he booted up his laptop.

Soft, suppressed coughs trickled occasionally from Sasuke’s mouth, and he was constantly moving around, trying to find the best position for sleeping. Finally, after fifteen minutes, he was able to drift off to a slightly deeper sleep, carried away by the even hum of Naruto’s laptop and air conditioning.

* * *

Snatches of discombobulated dreams flickered in and out of his dreamscape, creating a mess of a story Sasuke wasn’t even interested in understanding. Sickness always made him dream of the most bizarre things, and he was sure that some of the real life things happening around him got arbitrarily dragged and incorporated in them too. It was difficult finding a moment of relaxation in slumber due to this.

Sasuke was mildly aware of the fact that Naruto kept walking around his room, though he could hardly distinguish fact from fantasy. He once thought that he felt something brush against his forehead and neck, though it felt far too numb to be real. All of his feelings, except for hearing, had been dulled and distorted since his illness first overtook him.

He mumbled something incoherently as he awoke to a (real) touch on his shoulder. A train of low, rumbling words rolled into his ears, but he was unable to pick it up. He would have to wait for the distorting filter to go away before he would understand what was being said.

“What?” he muttered, feeling stiff and sore. His eyes focused on Naruto’s face, looming over him. It felt rather surreal to be seeing him right after waking.

“Juice.”

Sasuke’s gaze fell from his blue eyes and glanced at his other hand, which, indeed, grasped a cup of orange juice. He felt as if he was more hydrated than he ever was in his entire life, and if Naruto kept it up, it would become from a “feeling” to a “fact.” Nevertheless, he sat up and took the cup, staring dully at it. Naruto would sooner give him stomach ulcers and heartburn before he cured his cough at this rate.

A horrible feeling welled up in his throat, and Sasuke placed the cup onto his table, opting to grab some tissues from the rapidly emptying box instead.

The blonde stood there in slight confusion. “Why aren’t you drinking…?”

“Naruto,” Sasuke said sternly, his eyebrows furrowed in an angry expression again. The corners of his mouth twitched minutely, and a soft wheeze issued itself from his nose.

The blonde’s lips turned down as the two of them looked at each other.

“What?” he repeated Sasuke’s earlier, groggy question.

“ _Naruto_.” The stress on his name seemed to indicate some sort of severity in the situation.

A blond eyebrow rose curiously, but no moment of realization dawned on him. Sasuke looked at him with frustrated expectancy, the tissues held tightly in his hands, and his lips pressed hard together. Slowly, Naruto looked between his friend’s dark expression and the tissues.

He exclaimed, startled, before hurriedly saying, “Oh! Damn, I’m thirsty too. I’m going to get a drink of water. Be back later.” Naruto nearly tripped out of the room and practically ran down the stairs.

Sasuke would have heaved a sigh of relief, if the need for coughing didn’t finally overcome him. As he coughed miserably into the tissues, trying to expel whatever was lodged in his lungs, he cursed Naruto for all his worth. The blonde was a nice friend and meant well, but sometimes, he took too long to get the message. It didn’t help that Sasuke was used to implying things on a more insinuative level (because it was more polite and indirect), and Naruto was too blunt and thick-headed to catch his subtle signs. Most of the times, if his pride and image weren’t on the line, the Uchiha merely said it like he meant it to Naruto.

After being thoroughly disgusted (and slightly amazed) by how much phlegm his body was able to produce, Sasuke calmed down and tossed the tissues away. Breathing was a bit easier without that annoying whistling and gasping going on in his chest. He sniffled somewhat haughtily before looking at his hands. They felt rather unclean to him, so he went into his adjoining restroom to take care of it.

Though the water was only cool, it felt terribly chilling to his skin as he rubbed his hands together. He hoped he wasn’t developing a fever; it would be the last thing he needed. Sasuke went for his washcloth to dry off his hands, and was mildly surprised to feel that it was slightly damp. Reaching back into his memory, he was sure that he hadn’t used it that morning. Before he could get any further in his thoughts, Naruto’s voice drew him out to his room again.

He exited the restroom and stood at the doorframe, looking to his right to see Naruto standing at the door leading out to the hallway with one hand carrying two bowls of soup on a platter and two plates with sandwiches in the other. He wobbled somewhat precariously, but otherwise kept his balance (a skill he obtained during his years serving as a waiter). An uneasy smile was on his lips, as if he wasn’t sure entering the room would be appropriate.

“Lunch,” he announced briefly. The two of them started to walk toward the bed: Sasuke because he didn’t want to go to the desk and Naruto because he knew Sasuke well enough. Courteously, Naruto waited until Sasuke sat down before settling next to him. He placed the tray of soup on the night-table before offering his friend a sandwich.

With a silent nod of thanks, Sasuke took one. He bit into it indifferently, barely able to taste much, due to his stuffy nose. Despite Naruto’s lack of ability to cook, he could make a pretty good sandwich, though it wasn’t as if Sasuke could really tell with his general lack of taste. They ate silently, opting to listen to the air conditioning rattle through the house and stare at the wall in front of them instead. Sitting so close together, Sasuke could feel heat emanating from Naruto’s body; he wanted to move, but his body was too reluctant to exert any more energy besides that needed for his beating heart, breathing, and eating.

The second Sasuke finished, Naruto was nudging his arm with his elbow for the plate. His fingers brushed together to get rid of the crumbs stuck there, and he handed it over. Before he could draw back, the blonde already had a bowl of soup and an easy-going smile ready for him.

“Warm soup helps with the cold.”

Sasuke wanted to add, “And the smile comes for free, doesn’t it?” to the end of Naruto’s explanation, but he refrained. He reflected that it must have been his delirium making him think such strange thoughts.  The Uchiha only nodded again, accepting the warm bowl gingerly. His spoon prodded at the fussili pasta in his chicken noodle soup disinterestedly. Already, his body was telling him he was full, but a part of him knew he wasn’t.

“You aren’t going to make me do what Mom used to do with Dad, are you?” Naruto asked, biting onto the edge of his spoon. Sasuke looked at his bowl and wasn’t too surprised to see that he was done. He was always a fast eater. In his typical silent-communication method, Sasuke raised an eyebrow to ask what it was Naruto’s mother used to do. The corners of his companion’s mouth lifted as he answered. “Spoon feed.” He laughed and placed his utensil into the bowl carefully.

“No thanks,” Sasuke muttered, finally eating some of the soup slowly. Next to him, the blonde was absentmindedly running his hand through his hair, seemingly lost in his own thoughts.

A sudden nervous shiver went up Sasuke’s spine. His shoulders lurched as he coughed without warning. Immediately, the bowl was taken from his hand and tissues were shoved at him. None of the soup had spilled.

Naruto stood up and walked away from Sasuke as he hacked. He thought his friend was tactfully saving face for him by leaving, but not much registered in his mind as he coughed. All his attention was diverted into a tunnel-vision version of the carpeted floor in front of him. No matter how hard he tried, it didn’t seem like the coughs were lessening.

Dimly, he was aware of Naruto’s return; apparently, he had thought incorrectly. His friend sat back next to him and started to rub at his back comfortingly, occasionally stopping and encouraging him to breathe. The Uchiha would have been mortified and chagrinned that Naruto was hearing the disgusting noises he was making, but he had bigger worries to fuss about.

His throat kept tickling, and his full stomach was not reacting well with his convulsing. Sasuke felt the contents of his lunch threatening to come back up, but even as he tried to close his mouth and quell the horrible feeling, he couldn’t stop his coughs. An intensely displeasing feeling heaved in him, and his shoulders bowed from the effort to keep from vomiting.

He tried swallowing several times, but was interrupted each time by an unbidden fit. Breathing heavily through his nose seemed to aid, though it was little comfort to feel sharp bile swelling in his throat each time the coughing went on for too long. The dry quality of it kept Sasuke gasping in little breaths of air and wanting to do nothing but curl up somewhere.

Finally, after what seemed like forever, he was able to rid his throat of something rather nasty, and the sore feeling in his throat ebbed away. A few short, controlled coughs later, Sasuke was able to breathe again. Throughout the episode, Naruto had not stopped rubbing his back; now he took up a tepid, wet washcloth from his dampened knee and held it up to Sasuke’s sweat-covered forehead.

With a weak and trembling hand, Sasuke pressed his fingers over the rough cloth, wiping away the moisture which was making his bangs stick to his face. While he cleaned his face and neck, Naruto gently pried the tissues away from his other hand, disposing them promptly. After watching him for a few more seconds, Naruto held out his hand for the washcloth silently and took it when it was given. He disappeared into the restroom and came back a little later.

“Better?” he asked, sitting back down on the bed. Sasuke merely nodded, not trusting himself to open his mouth, lest another coughing fit took over him. Blue eyes watched him carefully as he tried to even out his breathing and slow down his heart-rate. Sasuke couldn’t help but wonder how many times he had watched his mother take care of his father in order for him to do everything so naturally. It was as if Naruto knew what he was going through immediately and acted accordingly.

Confident of his speaking skills once more, Sasuke croaked out, “I’m fine,” to his companion before falling back into silence. Naruto nodded once and began to stack plates and bowls together.

He smiled apologetically at Sasuke. “It’s probably not a good idea for you to be eating more after that.” With that, he stood up and left. For a moment, Sasuke sat there, feeling inexplicably embarrassed.

Letting Naruto see him ill was bad enough, but allowing him to witness such a fit of weakness was a low blow to his ego. At the very least, his friend had said nothing about his episode and had promptly left him alone. However, even with Naruto’s surprising tact, Sasuke wasn’t feeling any more or less redeemed. It was still humiliating to him.

To ease the uncomfortable feeling welling in his chest, he took up the cup of orange juice that Naruto had given him when he first woke up and took a sip.

Slight surprise touched his face as he realized that the juice was lukewarm. Even if they had taken a while to eat, juice straight from the fridge wouldn’t be able to warm up so quickly. Besides that, the cup wasn’t coated in condensation either. Naruto probably poured out the juice in advance just to let the liquid sit and reach a good temperature. Sasuke had heard about not drinking or consuming cold things because it interfered with a cough, but for Naruto to actually go out of his way to do that was unexpected.

Sasuke made a thoughtful noise; replaced the cup; and stood up slowly, stretching his tired limbs. Unlike that morning, he didn’t feel as deliriously dizzy on his feet, which he took as a good sign. His earlier headache had lessened to a thin throb as well.

As he stood there, he noticed the materials that Naruto had spread across his table, making it look like a warzone, complete with pencil soldiers, trenches made by books, and paper tents. It seemed like the blonde was doing some serious studying. He glanced at the laptop innocently and glimpsed an open document, a half-formed sentence trailing off the screen, as if Naruto left it there to complete itself.

He shook his head and slowly made his way to the window. Sasuke drew back the curtains a bit more to see how it was outside. In the artificially chilled air of his house, it was difficult to imagine it was hot, but, by placing his hand against the windowpane, he could feel the warm heat seeping into his palm. It _must_ have been blistering outside for heat to reach him through triple-layer glass. The heat waves rolling out from the paved streets and distorting images reconfirmed his theory. He hoped nighttime would find him in a better, cooler mood.

Bright sunlight made him blink away and he withdrew from the oven outside. Naruto was coming back into the room as he shrank away from the window.

“Oh, hey. You’re up and about. That’s good.” His eyes flickered to the window Sasuke was just standing at before refocusing on his friend’s face. If he had been repulsed by Sasuke’s earlier coughing, he showed no signs of it. “You probably aren’t tired enough to go back to sleep, huh? No worries,” Naruto chattered on amicably. He didn’t even wait for a reply as he dragged his backpack over to the bed. “I borrowed some magazines from everyone to keep you entertained.”

“What’s wrong with my books?” Sasuke asked hoarsely, his voice not yet recovered from its phlegm infestation. No verbal response was given, but Naruto looked at him strangely. Automatically, his dark eyes flickered to the bookshelves lined up against one of the walls. He supposed the tomes were probably not good reading material for the dizzy and incoherent mind.

“Here, here,” Naruto beckoned him closer. “I got some from Sakura,” he tossed a few medical magazines on the bed from the dark recesses of his portable black hole, “from Chouji,” a few culinary choices flopped on top of Sakura’s, “from Ino,” flowers and grasses littered his bed-sheets, “from Kiba,” curious eyes from puppies and kittens stared up at him. The list went on for a bit, and soon, Sasuke’s bed looked more like a magazine collector’s treasures and less like an actual bed. From Neji, business; from Tenten, weaponry; from Shino, entomology; from Shikamaru… nothing (“I asked him for some, but he was too lazy to go fetch them,” his friend reported in a solemn tone); from Sai, art; from Hinata, martial arts; and from Naruto, a hodgepodge of anything and everything. At the end of it all, the blonde looked up cheerily at Sasuke and said, “Enjoy!” Sasuke had no idea why he looked so proud of himself, though he figured it must have been from how much he was able to accumulate in so little time.

“That’s too much.”

“You read fast.”

Having said that, Naruto had flopped down next to the mountain of pages and picked something out at random. He rolled over on his back, legs half-dangling off the edge, and flipped to an arbitrary page. Cautiously, Sasuke sat down and watched the pile shift with his weight. He picked up a magazine—one of Ino’s—and rifled through the pages with detached interest. Soon, he heard the flutter of shiny, cheap paper closing and being tossed aside. Turning his head to see what was going on, the Uchiha was able to glimpse Naruto’s relaxed form. The blonde had his hands tucked behind his head, and his eyes gazed listlessly at the barren ceiling. Aware of Sasuke’s stare, his blue eyes tore themselves away from heaven-bound directions and to him instead.

Sasuke’s fingers rested on the magazine page, splayed carelessly across its surface, as they regarded each other in comfortable silence. Naruto’s lips twitched slightly and he said, “Taking a break.” A slow blink was his only reaction, and then, Sasuke was back at his trivial pursuits.

“My last final is on Tuesday,” he announced to the ceiling. “I don’t think I’m ready for it.”

“When are you ever?” The jab came and went harmlessly. There was no venom and no hidden meaning in the way it was said.

Suddenly, Sasuke took hold of a tissue and sneezed into it a few times. He blew his nose and threw the tissue away. Self-consciousness diminished slowly as he realized Naruto didn’t care and wouldn’t make fun of him for it. He didn’t reply to the murmured “Bless yous” the blonde issued to him.

Sasuke readjusted his body so that his back was resting on the headboard (he had propped up a pillow against it), and his legs were bent so they would create a trap over Naruto’s. He moved a bit more and made the angle of his knees more obtuse. It was more comfortable for him, though it meant that his friend would have even less room to move, if he chose to. He didn’t.

The blonde chewed lightly on the corner of his lips. “True,” he admitted somewhat wanly to Sasuke’s earlier “accusation.” A page flipped, and its soft rustling was barely heard over the din of the room. The bed-sheets crumpled too, as Naruto turned to his side, careful not to bump his knees onto the back of Sasuke’s thighs, though they did come in contact a few times. He rested his head on the heel of his right hand, and the other laid loosely in front of him. “I’m not like you,” Naruto said softly, his eyes boring into his companion’s. By the time Sasuke had looked back, the blue eyes were closed. He traced the flush of eyelashes pressed against the tanned cheeks and the barely-parted lips before scrutinizing the worthless words in front of him again. He had no interest in the best planting months for morning glories (depending on where you lived, perhaps sometime in mid-March, he read). He replaced the magazine and picked up another.

“You’re lucky.” He was interrupted by Naruto’s low, comfortable voice. “You’re done with your finals. Well, I guess you’re lucky, except for the fact that you got sick.” As if to prove his point, Sasuke coughed a string of little coughs into a tissue. They stopped abruptly, and the tissue was tossed away.

Sasuke looked at him. “You’ll do fine. You always do.”

He nodded, and then said, briefly, “I’d better go back to studying.” The Uchiha untangled his legs from their trap-like position over Naruto and stood up, going to the bathroom to wash his hands.

His friend was already poring over his various books when he settled down in his bed. The magazines threatened to overtake him. It really was too much, but Sasuke said nothing. He went back to reading about things he didn’t care about.

* * *

The afternoon passed by serenely, both of the young men choosing to stay in relative silence, only breaking it to speak succinctly, and then relapsing back into quietude. Occasionally, Sasuke punctuated these bouts of calm with a sneeze or cough. Once or twice, his coughs grew to be too violent, and he drew Naruto to him like a softly fluttering moth. Again, he rubbed Sasuke’s back and offered him comfort. After the ragged coughing passed away, the blonde would seep back into the pages of his books without another word.

Twice, Naruto went downstairs to fetch him a cup of lukewarm juice or water, and they took short stretching breaks in between. On these occasions, the blonde initiated a few passing conversations with him, not enough to be tiring, but just enough to be entertaining for the few minutes of companionship.

Sasuke was glad for Naruto’s presence; he was not loud and obnoxious—as he usually was—and when he spoke, his voice and words did not jar his sensitive hearing. He didn’t mean any harm in his thoughts, but the prospect of having Sakura over instead might have caused him more discomfort. Her voice was as soothing as a woman’s could be, but while the pitch of it was, on general days, not bothersome to him, it might have irritated his hearing in his time of sickness. After all, sometimes even the slightly louder squeak of his bed made his ears ring. Naruto must have known this because he had, except for the initial contact they had that morning, kept his voice low and rumbling and refrained from making much noise.

* * *

Many hours passed them until Sasuke finally roused himself. Outside, the heated, bright sunlight had waned and turned orangey-red with age and mildness.  Sasuke began to rummage for clothes for a shower. At this cue, Naruto looked up from his books. “Hm? Showering? I guess I’ll go downstairs to heat up dinner then. Just come down when you’re ready. We’ve been in here for too long.”

His shower was brief and, as he prepared to descend downstairs, Naruto’s voice floated up to him.

“Ah, no, he’s much better now. Yeah, probably, but that happens to the best of us, right?” His voice broke off, as if he was beckoned to stop, and he laughed. “I don’t doubt that!” he chuckled.

It was obvious Naruto was on the phone. The Uchiha hesitated slightly with his hand resting lightly on the banister, unsure about what to do. It was equally awkward to go back into the room and wait as it was to go downstairs and interrupt the conversation. A sudden lapse of silence made him further stutter in his step, halfway on the second floor and halfway on the road to the first. The blonde had stopped talking abruptly.

“Um….” The word was unsteady and brittle, barely standing on crumbling legs. “Um,” it repeated itself, “no, not yet.” At the end of that statement, the tinny clinking and clanging of utensils stopped; Sasuke easily found himself imagining Naruto with his fingers pressed urgently against the side of his marble counter, his eyes looking down and to the side. “Yeah. Okay. Talk to you later then, Sakura. Bye.” With an uneasy laugh, the conversation stopped and the clinking began again.

A breath Sasuke held without knowing released itself, and he began to go down the stairs. Naruto was humming a disjointed, melody-lacking tune when he turned into the kitchen.

“Just in time!” Naruto exclaimed, an easy smile gracing his lips. Apparently he didn’t know Sasuke heard the last bit of his phone call. No sign of self-consciousness could be discerned from his open, honest face. “I’m almost done setting up,” he said with four chopsticks in his hand. The table had two persons’ worth of utensils and food waiting on it. “C’mon. Let’s eat.”

Sasuke sat down at the table and waited for Naruto to do the same. Dinner consisted of simple things: rice, fish, some steamed vegetables, and warm soup. The blonde handed him his pair of chopsticks and smiled again. He nodded in turn and said, “It’s time to eat,” as the gesture went. Naruto repeated it in a louder, more boisterous voice, though it didn’t jar Sasuke’s slightly pulsing temple.

They ate together in silence until Sasuke spoke up, making his friend look up with his mouth half-full of food.

“Your final’s on Tuesday. When are you going to leave?” It was more of a simple inquiry than a sign of wanting to get Naruto out of his house.

Naruto swallowed the rice and licked the corner of his mouth. “I don’t have class on Monday anymore. I guess I’ll leave that afternoon. You should be all better by then,” he said surely. He paused. “Er, I set up the guest bedroom already. Hope you don’t mind.”

His dark eyebrows rose slightly. It didn’t surprise him to know Naruto was staying over; he had expected it, but the sudden verbal confirmation of it startled him. The shock was momentary, however, and soon, he was eating calmly again.

After initiating the first spoken word, the rest of dinner was left to Naruto in terms of conversation. Most of it was griping about his schoolwork, his professors, and his grades, but Sasuke listened anyway. There was nothing else to listen to besides Naruto. Except for a cough or sneeze intermittently disrupting the seemingly never-ending flow of words, Sasuke was mute. He nodded now and again, to show that he was still listening, but it was more of an automatic gesture than anything.

It was nice to share dinner with someone.

* * *

Sasuke was lying in bed with his arms over the covers when Naruto poked his head through the opened door. His hair was still slightly damp from his shower, and his eyes barely showed from the shadows casted on his face. They seemed to glitter from the overabundant life their owner held.

“Still awake?” he whispered coarsely into the still air. Sasuke had turned off the air conditioning when he realized the night had cooled.

The slight motion on the bed indicated that his friend was, indeed, still awake. Naruto went in and walked directly to the window. He opened it slightly and tugged at the curtains so that they covered most of the glass. It allowed for a thin strip of moon and artificial light to settle on the floor. In the morning, it would not cause too much of a disturbance. For now, it would allow a breeze to caress it.

Sasuke watched, from his position on the bed, Naruto’s face as he looked outside. He wondered what he could be gazing at, since the streets must have been empty by now. The blonde sensed his lingering eyes and turned to him, an automatic smile greeting him. “It’s cool tonight. Weird, since it was so hot earlier….” Sasuke didn’t respond. A hand went to his neck and he rubbed there. “I guess I’m going to sleep too. Cramming never really worked for me… even though I always did. Besides, I don’t think I could ever be ready, right?” The rhetoric question seemed to harbor some seeming hurt, but it was too intangible to grasp. The silence between them, however, was palpable.

“Um,” Naruto said, sounding like he had on the phone with Sakura—uncertain and hesitating. It was disconcerting to Sasuke, who was used to the surer, more boastful Naruto. “I’ll go now.” His footfalls were muffled and quiet on the floor. Dark eyes followed him tiredly. “Good night.”

It took a while before Sasuke responded. “Good night.” He hadn’t anticipated the reaction he received from those plain, unadorned words.

The simple enunciation of the words made Naruto halt at the door. He had his hand pressed against the edge of it, and his body was bowed forward, momentum bringing his weight into action. A stiff jerk of his foot ceased that momentum, and he turned to look into the dark recesses of the room. His eyes were still not adjusted. The hand fell away from the door, and he started to walk toward the bed instead.

“What?” Sasuke asked somewhat curtly, sitting up as Naruto sat down. All traces of residual fatigue drained away at the sight of the blonde’s serious expression.

Several seconds passed without a response. Naruto had his hands dangling between his knees, and his head was slightly bowed. His entire being told of comfort and relaxation, had the stiffness of his back not given away his actual condition. He wasn’t looking at Sasuke.

“Do you…” he started off softly, fingers tangling and untangling nervously, “remember a few weeks ago?”

The atmosphere grew stifling.

“A few weeks ago,” meant a lot of different things for Sasuke. It could have been “a few weeks ago” that he received a new project, or said something to a professor, or forgotten something at home. But, to him, the phrase was important because it was also “a few weeks ago” that Naruto stopped contacting him regularly. He didn’t give any sign of acknowledgement though.

Naruto turned his head and smiled somewhat blindly in the darkness. Sasuke barely caught the slight tilt of it before the blonde stopped. He repeated what he said, “Do you remember a few weeks ago, when you asked me if we could be b-boyfriends?”

His voice had carried strongly and firmly, save the last word, which he stumbled and stuttered on gracelessly. To be fair with him, so had Sasuke when he first suggested it. They both flushed faintly.

To ease the heavy discomfort, Sasuke said, “I don’t have short term memory loss… unlike you.” He didn’t say it merely for the sake of Naruto’s fumbling though. He felt like he needed some sort of comfort from the rawness of the words. The only mutual comfort they were familiar with consisted of playful jabs.

Naruto glared at him but chuckled nervously before redirecting his gaze back to his hands. “I’ve been… thinking….” Sasuke looked away too, not bothering to return the usual gibe to him: Don’t hurt yourself. His friend must have been expecting it though, because he stopped again and waited. When nothing was forthcoming, he sucked in a deep breath of air. Unlike Sasuke, who had been wheezing each time he inhaled fully, his action came and went noiselessly. Naruto was steeling himself, as was Sasuke.

“I wanna try it out.” The phrase came boldly and solidly, though it cracked near the end, as if rash courage had abandoned him. Surety of the statement trickled away, leaving only nervousness behind.

Neither of them said anything. Naruto shifted uncomfortably at Sasuke’s stillness. He licked his lips and spoke.

“What? Nothing? No reaction?” Slight humiliation and anger tinged his cheeks, but it wasn’t visible in the dark. He opened his mouth to act on impulse and spew profanities, but a soft noise stopped him.

“Hn.”

Naruto’s mouth dropped open. “ _That’s_ your reaction?” He grasped for words. “I just… confessed to you and all you have to say—not even _say_ if I really had to categorize it—‘Hn’? Do you know how freakin’ hard that was, you jerk? I mean, yeah, what the hell, you kind of said it first so you probably do know, but damn it, it wasn’t just a walk in the park! Can’t you be a little more considerate of other people’s feelings? ‘Cause seriously, if _that’s_ your reaction to—”

Sasuke had moved softly forward and pressed his lips against Naruto’s in the middle of his semi-hysterical rant. He shut up quickly.

“I was just thinking,” the Uchiha said quietly, not liking the way his face was burning. “Idiot.” He pressed forward again and placed another kiss on the shocked-silent blonde.

“You’re going to get me sick,” Naruto suddenly said after breaking the kiss by pulling back embarrassedly. He didn’t care if his words made no sense. His brain was on strike, and he wasn’t sure what he was saying anymore.

Sasuke smiled wryly and raised an amused eyebrow. “You don’t get sick.”

The statement cleared Naruto’s mind slightly. He blinked, and his bewildered expression turned teasing. “That’s true. I don’t get sick.” His right hand intertwined with one of Sasuke’s at an awkward angle. He smiled at the newfound feeling. Both their hands were hot and sweaty, but it felt quite right.

Slowly, Sasuke leaned forward to rest his head on Naruto’s shoulder, sighing softly into it. “You think for too long,” he chastised endearingly, referring to the long weeks that finally led to their conclusion. He had been afraid.

The blonde made a noise at the back of his throat and leaned his cheek against Sasuke’s hair in apology.

In a drier, humorless tone, Sasuke added, “Also, you’ve been sitting on my right foot for a while now….”

Immediately, Naruto bolted up, causing their hands to unclasp forcefully. He nearly did in Sasuke’s chin in the process. His eyes widened in fear again as he looked at the hunched over position Sasuke was left in after his quick action. The Uchiha was reaching down to his foot and rubbing it painfully. A bark of laughter came from Naruto’s chest, and all the awkwardness of confession dissolved away. Sasuke looked up sideways with a small smirk on his face.

The blonde cradled his new boyfriend’s face in his hands and pressed his smile against the smirk gleefully before it melted into something more sensuous and delicate. He ended up being drawn halfway on the bed with one knee resting on the edge and his other foot on the floor by the end of it, but the back of his mind still bubbled with humor.

He had been wondering why the bed was so lumpy….


End file.
